016
1252 Words
ISLA
~•~
My stomach was in knots as the car started to slow down. Through the tinted windows, I could see the flood of expensive cars stopping one after the other, each of them dropping off expensive guests who dressed like royalty. It easily reminded me of my family.
Although I wasn’t interested, my mom often dragged me to events like this, reminding me I was the only daughter of the Smiths, reminding me to keep up my appearances because eyes were watching. I barely ever spent up to an hour in any of these events because as soon as I showed my face to everyone, I made up an excuse to go home. That was also why I had no friends in the mafia, hence no one to help me.
Beside me, Lorenzo was in a tailored black suit, his tie knotted with precision, his watch and cufflinks glinting. He looked untouchable and dangerous meanwhile I was certain he could smell my nerves. The beautiful gold dress I was in didn’t make me feel better and my outfit was usually my favourite part of these kinds of events. I felt exposed despite being fully covered. I wanted to turn back but I knew Lorenzo would never allow it.
“Don’t embarrass me,” he said lazily, more of a reminder than a threat this time.
“I wasn’t planning to,” I muttered.
The driver opened his door and Lorenzo stepped out first, turning heads towards us. When he turned toward me and offered me his hand, I froze for a second. His eyes locked on mine, patient but cold, a silent warning to remember what he just told me.
I slipped my hand into his. His grip was firm and he guided me out of the car. To anyone watching, he was the perfect gentleman. To me, he was a leash.
The cameras clicked. The crowd hushed for a second and then, the whispers broke out.
Inside, the ballroom was suffocating. Music played softly in the background. It was meant to be soothing but all it did was add to my nerves.
“That’s her?” Somehow apparently whispered as if it wasn’t loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Isn’t she from the Smith family?”
“With him?”
“I thought they were all dead?”
“What is she doing with him?”
“Are they hooking up?”
My skin burned with embarrassment. People who once respected my family were now looking at me like a fallen princess holding on to a monster as her last lifeline.
“Smile,” Lorenzo reminded me, his hand pressing against the small of my back possessively. “If they smell weakness, they’ll feed on it.”
“Like you, huh?”
He clicked his tongue. “You’re learning.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes and plastered on the fakest smile I could manage.
“That’s better, dolcezza.”
We moved through the crowds like predators amongst prey. But I knew I wasn’t a predator. I was a trophy and Lorenzo was having the time of his life parading me on his arm. The whispers didn’t stop. Some men didn’t even bother whispering. Their gazes lingered openly, dark and assessing. It made my skin crawl.
An older man with silver hair greeted Lorenzo with a handshake. “Russo.”
“Caddel,” Lorenzo responded.
His eyes flicked to me. “This must be your… companion.”
There was a pause where he let me digest the word before he responded. “Fiancée,” he corrected with an easy smile.
My heart lurched. My eyes snapped up to him but he didn’t even spare me a glance. He was enjoying this. He fed off pressing my buttons
“Ah,” the man’s brows lifted with intrigue. “Congratulations are in order then.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but Lorenzo’s hand tightened against my back, daring me to say one word. Then I remembered his threats and I closed my mouth. My fake smile didn’t falter but my nails dug into my palm deep enough to almost draw blood.
As the night went on, the pattern repeated. Men shook Lorenzo’s hand, complimented him, and stole glances at me. Women sized me up, some with pity, some with disdain. All through it, Lorenzo never let me get a few centimeters away. His hand brushed mine, held my waist, lingered on my shoulder, all territorial gestures marked as affection.
It ate me up inside.
By the time I excused myself for a drink, my jaw ached from clenching it for so long. I reached for a glass of champagne, hoping to take the edge off.
“You don’t drink,” Lorenzo said, plucking the glass out of my hand before I could even taste it.
I gritted my teeth. This man was like gum stuck under my shoe. “Stop following me.”
“Not possible,” he kept his eyes on me as he sipped on my drink.
Before I could respond to him, someone interrupted. A tall man, younger than most of them in the room. He held his hand toward me, “Care to dance?”
I froze and glanced at Lorenzo instinctively. I was here with him tonight. Surely, I couldn’t be dancing with other strangers. Instead of refusing, Lorenzo leaned lazily against the bar. “Go on, dolcezza.” My eyes widened at his words. What game was he playing again? “Don’t be rude.”
Shock rippled through me but the man was already guiding me towards the dance floor. He had asked me for the dance but he was really asking Lorenzo.
I swallowed back my anger and focused on not tripping over my heels. He leaned in, his voice low. “You’re lighter on your feet than you look.”
I forced out a polite smile despite the strangeness of his compliment. “Do you practice that often?”
He shook his head softly. “You look like you don’t want to be here.”
“Observant,” my tone was sarcastic and I didn’t care if he caught it.
“You deserve better than being his puppet,” the man said, his hand drifting lower on my back. “You don’t belong on his arm.”
Of course, another asshole. I didn’t even know his name and he was already trying to touch me inappropriately. “Keep your hands where they should be,” I warned him.
He chuckled. “Don’t be shy. Everyone knows he won’t keep you forever,” his grip tightened as his hand dropped on my ass. I gasped. “Why not have some fun while you still can?”
Rage took over my senses. Before I could stop myself, I shoved him back, hard enough to draw attention. Several gasps were heard. The music didn’t stop but the atmosphere changed.
Across the room, Lorenzo smirked. He set down his glass and kept his eyes on me as though he’d been waiting for that moment.
The man stumbled, then recovered, his expression darkening. “You little–“
I didn’t let him finish. My hand flew, striking his cheek with a crack that silenced everyone.
The entire ballroom froze. I froze.
The man’s cheek was flaming red, his eyes murderous. But before he could move, my eyes caught Lorenzo across the room.
He was smiling. Smiling as if I’d done exactly what he wanted.
- Writer
